MOTHER MARY Lacks Plot, but It Does Have a Magical Negro Trope and Divine / Controversial Costumes

I’m this movie’s target demographic, the Gothic lover infatuated with high fashion and art history, and yet the only part of this film I comprehend are the costumes, which are shown in such rapid succession that I couldn’t even appreciate them.

Mother Mary A24 Movie Plot Summary, Explained

This is what I can surmise about “what happens” in this film. Mother Mary (Anne Hathaway) shows up to her old friend/lover Sam Anselm (Micaela Coel)’s atelier in London uninvited and unannounced because she needs a dress made in four days for her midnight comeback show as a pop star. Last time she performed, a few years ago, Mother Mary fell (or jumped) off a floating platform and injured her spine so badly she has a surgical scar.

[SPOILERS START HERE… maybe? I don’t understand what actually happened, so pretty much everything below is my interpretation.]

It seems like the falling out between the women happened because Mary fired Sam in a shitty, delegated way. It also seems like they were at least close friends. Sam has healed, I think, but both characters are on the verge of or actually crying for at least two thirds of the movie.

Mother Mary (Anne Hathaway), the titular character of the A24 2026 film performs her song, “My Mouth” in costume, with dancers, on a spectacular stage.

The Pop Star’s Aesthetic

Mother Mary (played by Anne Hathaway) ascends a backstage staircase in silhouette, wearing an epic halo-like headdress with a train that extends all the way down, behind her, to the dancers who wait to enter after her.

Photo by Eric Zachanowich. Courtesy of A24.

Mother Mary, The Pop Star

As with most pop renditions of cultural moments, Mother Mary the singer doesn’t seem to have much to do with Catholicism, nor Christianity. It’s okay, neither does Madonna. If anything, just the opposite, there.

Her songs and albums are titled with scripture-adjacent terms like “Holy Spirit,” but then the lyrics say things like “my mouth is lonely for you,” so… yeah, it’s pretty much a gimmick. It is a pretty sacrilegious gimmick, though, which leads me to the controversy over the film.

Controversy

Pretty much any time there’s Christian iconography used in a secular way, there will be controversy. That’s one reason why creators continue to do it: it gets a lot of attention, even if people are hate-watching. Is Mother Mary “making fun of” the Virgin Mary? Not really. Like I said, it has very little to do with anything. Is it blasphemous to reappropriate Renaissance iconography to a non-religious purpose? When the pop icon does it, probably. When Sam does it? Not at all. And here’s why I think that.

Sam Anslem (played by Michaela Coel) leans casually on a worktable in her magnificent, weathered atelier, wearing comfortable chic clothes and looking to her left, at someone or something offscreen

Photo by Eric Zachanowich. Courtesy of A24.

Sam Anselm, The Designer

Sam is the designer, which means, in this instance, she’s what makes this whole schtick work. She also speaks in poetic verse with a very intentional meter, which is another dope aesthetic element of this film. Sam grew up Catholic, and she puts her religious experiences into the dresses she makes. She talks about how beautiful she felt in her white dress at her Confirmation, even though she spilled wine all down the front of it. She talks about Pentecost, and she talks about the Saints. All this, Mother Mary, in turn, co-opts as her own.

Is this fact a comment on reappropriating religious iconography? Or is it a comment about co-opting the art of Black people without credit? Probably both, but neither topic is explored or rooted enough to call it a theme, which is frustrating at best, irresponsible at worst. At least I know, Mary hurt Sam’s feelings, and Sam has tried to move on. Of course, Mary comes back to Sam when she’s possessed by a “ghost”, and Sam magnanimously decides to help. Is this a Magical Negro trope? I mean, she does rescue Mary from whatever that thing represented by the red silk scarf is, and we know almost nothing about her life outside of Mary even though she’s a co-starring role. She even describes herself as in her “Miss Havisham” era.

Note: Please do not misunderstand me, though. Michaela Coel and Anne Hathaway both delivered beautiful, deep performances here. I don’t want to minimize how massive an accomplishment that is given how little we as the viewers get to know about Sam and Mary as characters. I have no notes for them. My notes are for the screenwriter (David Lowery). And one more thing: we want more Hunter Schafer as Hilda the assistant, please. Why relegate her to the sidelines? She’s amazing!

Sam Anselm (Michaela Coel) holds a sheer white fabric up to the dark sweater Mother Mary (Anne Hathaway) wears as if to judge whether it is appropriate material for her special dress.

Photo by Eric Zachanowich. Courtesy of A24.

The Divine Costumes

It’s obvious to you by now that I did not care for this film as a whole, but I adored the costumes. For me, the costumes were the likeable part of this film. To be fair, Michaela Coel and Anne Hathaway’s performances were impeccable, but that’s because they are impeccable actors.

Plot, Explained

The script lacked momentum and purpose—and maybe I think so because I don’t like an abstract conflict, and I don’t want to draw my own conclusions about every part of a plot. Maybe it felt that way because all the events happen in flashback, and they’re told to us much of the time rather than shown. In a movie.

But the problem also could be because a man is telling women’s stories. (Is that why all the problems seem so vague?) True, they didn’t cast any men in the film, but it’s still a movie made by and large according to a man’s vision. (Is that why there are so many vaginal images?)

Also, it seems like the events all happen in the wrong order. The inciting incident is in the fourth (?) act… why not tell it chronologically? At least some of it.

Mother Mary (Anne Hathaway) in a decadent blue high-collared robe sits with Sam Anselm (Michaela Coel) cross-legged in a chalk circle, facing one another, lit by candles in the atelier, a bowl of magic objects beside during the seance / exorcism

Photo by Eric Zachanowich. Courtesy of A24.

Spiritualism Homage

That inciting incident is the séance in Dublin. Mary comes off stage on a total high in an excellent depiction of the self-important grandeur of a pop star. Imogen (FKA Twigs) brings the while entourage—minus Sam—to a haunted house (unclear why) and hosts a “spirit” that throws her around the room. Ultimately, that unidentified spirit has Imogen open “a door” to possess Mother Mary.

Sam figures out, after Mary tells her about this inciting incident toward the end of the film, that it’s probably her own rage that possessed Mary. Maybe? Maybe that’s what she was saying. Maybe that’s what happened. I don’t know.

During the final séance, finally, Sam leads the exorcism. (Why is she doing all the heavy lifting for this creative vision?) She guides the “spirit” out of Mary’s body by telling her the “rungs of the ladder.”

This is the best part of the film, and it lasts for about two minutes. Here, Sam lists the different designs she has made for Mother Mary in what seems like an “Eras” kind of organization.

Unfortunately, it’s a montage, and every incredible design comes on screen for mere seconds. What a waste!

Photo by Frederic Batier. Courtesy of A24.

Religious Iconography

One design, my favorite, is the Joan of Arc homage.

This is one symbol I thought could work for the film I thought this was going to be very well.

A quick and dirty history: Joan of Arc was a French peasant girl who led French armies to victories over the English during the Hundred Years’ War. She had Holy visitations from Saints, whom she claimed helped her with these victories. The English did not like that, so when they captured her, she was found guilty of heresy (both because she dressed as a man and claimed divine guidance) and she was burned at the stake at 19 years old in 1431.

France has always regarded her as a national hero. Actually, one of my favorite things we did in Paris was to visit the Pantheon.

Photos of Jules Eugene Lenepveu’s Joan of Arc frieze cycle at the Panthéon in Paris, France.

Twenty-four years later, at her second (posthumous) trial, Pope Callixtus III declared Joan of Arc innocent.

About 400 years later, in 1920, the Catholic Church canonized Joan of Arc retroactively. Meaning, not only was she not a witch: actually, Joan was a saint. (Which seems like, maybe an overcorrection…? Or at least a testament to how religion has never been separate from politics.)

The ambiguity of Joan of Arc’s power origins as a character could work for this film. Mary says in her Vogue interview, “I wanted to look like Joan of Arc.” Sam corrects her: “I wanted you to look like Joan of Arc.”

Mary essentially cut Sam out of the creative process in her interview the way she cut her out of her creative career. The dress Sam made for Mary was a white shift blooming with blood red at the torso. One arm wears a suit of armor. And, naturally, there’s a halo.

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Okay, I’ll try to Rationalize OVER YOUR DEAD BODY’s Ending